


Learning To Fly Again

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Redemption, Valki - Freeform, Valkyrie feels, Valkyrie is a BAMF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Loki isn't sure how he got himself into this situation and Brunnhilde (Valkyrie) is not putting up with any of his baggage.This fic was born out of a couple trailers and an undying love for Loki, and the hope that he'll finally pull his head out his butt.





	1. Ring My Bell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamcoffeehawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamcoffeehawk/gifts).



> All I have to go on is a couple Thor: Ragnarok trailers and Loki's character arc over the Thor and Avengers movies. I'm going to be honest, I'm a pretty nervous about this fic. I don't usually work off so little. I'm DYING to see the movie, I know I'll be able to expand this story much easier afterwards. 
> 
> Anyway, comments are beyond appreciated. 
> 
> Many, many thanks to @iamcoffehawk for her invaluable words of encouragement and beta skills.

“What have you brought me?”

“A contender,” Brunnhilde answered the Grandmaster, gesturing towards the prince of Asgard tied to a chair in front of them. But her gaze went over the blond warrior’s head and landed on the lean figure resting quietly against the back wall, guards on either side of him.

Loki, former prince of Asgard and younger brother to Thor, now an outcast. Trickster, liar, thief. Wanted in most of the nine realm for his crimes.

As if he could feel her watching him, Loki’s gaze flicked away from his brother’s argument with the Grandmaster to lock eyes with her. They silently studied each other for a long moment. One black eyebrow raised in challenge at her perusal, but it held more amusement than hostility. They hadn’t been introduced, since she’d been on the hunt when he’d arrived a month ago, but she knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was.

He didn’t look like a mindless murderer, she’d never known him to be one, though the tales that had reached Sakaar proclaimed it so. Then again, he was no longer in possession of the infinity stone that had given him the power that almost brought Migard to its knees. The Mind Gem had an unsettling history, leaving behind a trail of broken and mad beings who’d attempted to possess it, but in turn, had been possessed _by_ it. He was lucky to have survived his experience. It spoke of a strong spirit and will, a determination to survive where others could not.

“My dear,” the Grandmaster called from his throne, drawing her attention from the outlaw. Loki broke eye contact with her, dropping his gaze to his feet, a small smile playing about his lips. It was an expression that said he’d just gotten something he’d wanted, and she wasn’t sure she liked that. “This one says that you cheated when you took him. That he’d been tricked and already wounded. Not up to his full strength, as it were. Hmm?”

Brunnhilde raised her eyebrows, letting out a short laugh. “So?”

“So? This is not right,” sputtered Thor. “There was no fair combat, no warrior’s contest. I’m not a bounty, I’m the Prince of Asgard!”

“Is he always this much of a stickler for the rules?” Brunnhilde directed a question towards Loki, keeping her tone light.

Surprise flashed over his face for a second, then he straightened away from the wall, expression smoothing. “He used to be much worse.”

“How boring,” Brunnhilde mocked as she stepped down from the dais, studying her catch, smiling at the red-faced glare Thor directed her way. Oh, he did not enjoy being at another’s mercy. “What’s the fun in playing fair?”

“Indeed,” murmured Loki.

“Oh, for-- When I get out of here... I can’t believe I mourned you, brother. I cried! _Twice_.” Thor strained against the bonds, causing the guards to move a few steps closer, and glared accusingly at Loki.

The Grandmaster’s eyes to lit up with delight as the other man just shrugged, as if to say _oops,_  and the prince let out a growl. Brunnhilde sidled closer to the prisoner, just in case he managed to break his bindings.

“Yes, yes, all that vigor! The passion. I like it.” The Grandmaster clapped his hands together, leaning forward in his seat. “But not here, my fine warrior, not here. Gentlemen, take our new contender down to get fitted for his first fight.”

Loki’s head jerked up at that, his shocked expression matching his brother’s. “Fight?”

The prince shouted and struggled against his bonds as the men wheeled him out, threatening all of him with his mighty wrath. Big words for a man who'd lost his magic hammer. Brunnhilde stepped in Loki’s way, blocking him as he made to follow, forehead creased with, amazingly, what look like concern. The Grandmaster swept by them with his assistants, face bright with anticipation for the show to come. Not paying Brunnhilde any attention, Loki tried to sidestep her, but she placed one hand on his chest and shoved him backwards lightly.

“No.”

“There’s been some sort of mistake,” he started, gaze still focused past her to where everyone else was disappearing down the corridor.

“Yes. A mistake made by your brother,” she replied, letting her hand drift down to rest on the hilt of the sword strapped to her hip. “He was the one who interfered with my hunt, letting my bounty get away. So he replaced it. That’s how it works.”

Loki narrowed his eyes as he finally brought his attention back to her. Squaring his shoulders, he moved half a step closer, as if he thought he could intimidate her. “I’m sure he thought he was doing the honorable thing. He always does.”

“Actions.” She lifted one hand, smiling blandly. “Consequences.” Lifted the other, away from her weapon.

It suddenly occurred to her, despite the two guards lingering outside the doorway to the chamber, that he was very close. Inches away. He was a silently vibrating, coiled mass of energy, all lean, long muscles and hypnotic green eyes. Everything about him screamed danger, the kind a woman didn’t see coming until it was too late. Brunnhilde didn’t know why she felt the urge to gently brush the errant strands of black hair away from his face, trace the lines of strain and worry with her fingers until they faded. It wasn’t like her, she wasn’t soft. She didn’t do things like that. Not anymore. He wasn’t the sort to accept the gesture, anyway, even if she offered it.

“Who _are_ you?” His question was a puff of air against her forehead. Blinking, Brunnhilde drew back with a sharp breath. He was _too_ close, nearly brushing her with the edges of his own clothing.   

“That’s on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know,” she spit out, slamming her defenses up again, willing her pulse to stop rioting through her veins. He caught her wrist with a charming grin, fingers locked around the fine bones there like iron.

“Oh, I think I do.”

In a movement almost faster than she could track, he flung her past him, towards the other end of the room. Shit! This is what happened when she let her guard relax, every damn time. Brunnhilde snarled, slamming her hands into the wall to keep herself upright, and spun on her heel just in time to see the last guard crumple in  the doorway. That wild grin still on his face, Loki came out of a crouch, casually flipping the two daggers he’d taken off one of the men he’d bested. Rage, and a sliver of humiliation at how she’d gotten lost in his compelling eyes for a moment, filled her. She wanted to beat that smirk off his pretty face.

“I don’t think you’ll find me as easy a prize as my brother. I don’t play fair.”

They circled warily, sizing each other up. He wore no armor other than his leather outfit and metal bracers, but she knew he boosted some claim to magic. How much and what exactly, she wasn’t sure. He’d never used it in public, not when his mother was alive, when Brunnhilde was still in service to the Queen. But he wouldn’t catch her unaware again.

“Finally, a challenge,” she mocked him, feinting left with her sword. He merely danced out of the way, not taking the bait.

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t have knocked out those guards.”

“You weren’t going to let me go any other way.”

“No.”

“Then… I suppose we fight.”

The words had hardly left Loki’s mouth when he darted forward, crowding her, his blades ringing as they made contact with her hastily erected sword. She lunged towards him, blocking his thrust with her forearm against his, and kneed him hard in his upper thigh. He staggered back, cursing. She laughed as she stalked him across the room, swinging her sword in a whistling circle at her side. The chamber was soon filled with the sound of hard combat, grunts and metal screeching and labored breathing. He was good. She’d known that. But he’d improved quite a bit since she’d last caught a glimpse of him fighting, and now he was good enough that she couldn’t put him down immediately. That was a bit of a shock. It had been a long time since she’d met her match in combat.

That primal joy only battle could give her filled Brunnhilde’s veins, pushing her harder and faster, without mercy. She stopped holding back, and it felt so good as Loki began to bend under her unflinching attack. All it took was a stumble and she was on him, leaping up in a flash of knives and flurry of hits, pinning him against the wall.

She pressed the edge of her blade to his chest, leaning on him hard. “Give up?”

“Never,” he said, utterly relaxed under her hands, as if she wasn’t a moment away from stabbing him through. She kicked his feet out from under him, following him to the floor and sitting on his chest to hold him in place. Loki didn’t fight it, just tilted his head back to keep eye contact. “But I do have questions.”

“Questions?” Brunnhilde did not ease the pressure, assuming victory. She would not be played for a fool again. “You have _questions_.”

“Yes. Such as, why do you fight like an Asgardian warrior?”

“Do I?”

One corner of his mouth quirked in amusement, as he stared up at her. “You do. I’d know my old master’s style anywhere. You’re a marginally better fighter than I am, and combined with your training, it makes you hard to beat.”

“Says the man currently lying on the floor. Don’t hurt yourself with those compliments.” Brunnhilde rolled her eyes, tightening her thighs on either side of his chest, pulling a grunt from him. How satisfying.

He held up his hands. “Apologies, of course. You have conquered me, I think I deserve a boon.”

“The boon is granted to the winner, not the loser.” Finally she moved off him, kicking his blades across the room, still holding her own weapon on him. But Loki only shifted where he was slumped against the wall, somehow making it look as though he was perfectly comfortable. “And I doubt you’re this easily conquered.”

The grin he shot her was just this side of filthy, and had her pulse stuttering. _Breathe, you fool. He’ll use your attraction just as well as any weapon._

But the smile fell away quickly as he went back to studying her. “Trained by a Palace weapons master, but living as a bounty hunter among the dregs of galactic society.” She saw the moment it came to him, gritting her teeth for the inevitable.

“You’re a Valkyrie.”

“I was.”

“You fought Hela.”

“I lost.” He knew who she was. Not just what she was, but _who_ she was. Had been.

Brunnhilde kicked his boot, hard. How dare he remind her of her defeat. The one that had brought her so low, torn her from her former life and set her adrift. It still burned. “Just like you lost today. On your feet, prisoner.”

“I was a guest an hour ago,” he said, standing in one fluid motion, as if they hadn’t just destroyed the room in battle.

“An hour ago, you hadn’t attacked the Grandmaster’s men,” she sneered, tossing him a pair of magically reinforced wrist-cuffs. He caught them with ease, putting them on with a long suffering sigh. “I doubt he’ll be so forgiving now.”

“Perhaps. He knows why I’m here, however, so I don’t believe I’ll be wearing these very long.” Glancing up from where he’d been adjusting the metal against his wrists, Loki suddenly pinned her with a intense look. “You understand familial concern, don’t you, Valkyrie? What a person would do for their brother… or sister?”

Pain erupted in her chest, stealing her breath as he watched her with those shrewd green eyes.

“Go to hell,” she managed, slamming the door on memories best left to the dust they’d become.

His smile held no mirth. “I’ve been to worse places.”

“Enough.” Shaking her head, Brunnhilde grabbed him by back of his collar with a hand she prayed he couldn’t feel trembling, and shoved him towards the door.

Loki made a tsking sound, but didn’t resist. His sudden docility made her suspicious, he didn’t even try to kick any of the unconscious men as he stepped over them. It was as she’d said earlier, a victory over him would not be easily won. She’d hoped to dump him with the gladiators master and be done with it, but she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. (Actually, she _could_ probably throw him a fair distance. She just didn’t trust him, flat out.) He was going to have to stay with her, where she could keep a proper eye on him. She didn’t like it. He knew too much, understood too much, and she already hated his stupid, beautiful cheekbones.

“Keep up, would you?” With a snarl of frustration, Brunnhilde used the joint of his cuffs to yank him along behind her as she strode down the corridor, ignoring the slight smile he attempted to hide behind the curtain of tangled black hair.

It was going to be a long day.   



	2. Are You Gonna Go My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki climbs out of the frying pan and lands right in the fire. Brunnhilde extends a lifeline, much to his shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely not going to be updating as quickly as I have so far. But clearly this is already not going to be canon compliant (because, really, how COULD it be). So since I'm going my own way, it may come to me quickly at times and slower at others. 
> 
> I'm so excited to see the movie I can hardly type straight. :D
> 
>  
> 
> (Yes, all my chapter titles will be songs. They usually always are. They make up the playlist I listen to while writing.)

 

Loki settled his chained wrists in his lap and stretched his legs out along the floor of his cell, letting his head rest on the wall behind him with a muffled thump. This was unpleasantly familiar. It brought back memories from the last time he’d been incarcerated, on Asgard, that he’d rather not examine. Back when his mother was still alive.

No.

He was not thinking about that. Instead, he was going to ponder the amazing celestial forces that once again had brought his brother careening into his orbit. After Thor had taken his human lover and run off to stop the Dark Elves from destroying the universe, Loki had thought that was the end of that. He’d picked himself up, dusted the dried Elf blood off his clothes, and went about his business. It was easier to let his brother believe him dead, for them both. He and Thor, their relationship had always been… complicated. Well, not _always_. When they were children, they fought as brothers so often do; still, Loki worshiped the ground his older sibling walked upon. It wasn’t until later that he began to see the tarnish on the golden prince, the selfish and small behaviors unbefitting a man who would someday rule over Asgard.

When he’d had accompanied his brother on that ill-fated attack on Jotunheim and discovered his true parentage, he was ashamed to say he’d gone a little mad. He’d always known whom Odin preferred, it was obvious. But to have him so blatantly spit in his face, to learn he’d been lied to his entire life, even whilst his adoptive father pretended to groom him as his second heir when he had _no_ intention of allowing a monster to claim the throne of Asgard... He’d not admit it even while being roasted over open flame, because Odin _had_ deserved every single one of them, but Loki regretted the cruel and hateful things he'd said that day.

And what followed.

What followed had been more terrible than he could bear to contemplate while locked in chains in this cramped space, with no room for pacing or venting his frustrations. The one saving grace in this mess his life had become was that he could take a small comfort in the fact that he’d been a better ruler than the All-Father had ever been, even if he’d had to disguise himself as Odin to do it. For the short time he’d ruled, anyway, before Hela showed up.

Which brought him back ‘round to this afternoon. The Grandmaster had a secret: his very own Queen’s Guard, running around and scooping up arena meat for him. A few years ago, right before everything had begun to fall apart, Loki had heard tell of the tale of two sisters, Valkyries both, who’d run afoul of Hela. One survived, the other did not, but neither returned to Asgard. By her reaction to his probing earlier, he’d say _this_ was the Valkyrie that had survived. There was a story there and he wanted to know it. He wanted to know what secrets those wary dark eyes held. The way she’d fought, full of grace and deadly intent, had captivated him. She’d been magnificent, and if she hadn’t so clearly been disdainful of him, he’d have attempted to charm his way into her bed instead of this cell. She was all smooth brown skin, silken inky curls, and flashing eyes, her curves not hidden in the least by the practical body armor she wore.

He’d never been so intimidated, yet driven to lust at the same time, in his entire life. Loki shifted, drawing his knees up slightly as a patrol guard wandered past his cell. No need to give his captors a free show. Unobtrusively, he pressed at his half-hard cock with the palm of his hand. “Down, boy. Nothing fun here,” he muttered, dropping his head back on the wall again and closing his eyes.

Making a valiant effort not to relive the memories of the Valkyrie’s warm weight settled on his stomach and the curve of her firm ass snug against his crotch while she threatened him with imminent death, Loki managed to catch a few hours of restless sleep. He awoke to someone kicking his boot. Hard. Blinking, he held his hand up against the light that must have flared on when the person currently nudging his leg with their foot had entered the cell. Snaking an arm out, he grabbed the ankle of said person, preventing the boot from kicking him again.

“I’m awake.”

“About time.”

Ah. It was her. How nice for him. Or not, depending on what she had in store. Although, to be perfectly honest, he’d probably enjoy whatever she wanted to do to him.

“Valkyrie,” he said, pushing himself up on his elbows, but making no move to rise to his feet. “What a terrible habit you’re developing. You seem overly fond of making a match of your boot and my body. Is it morning already? I can hardly tell, you know, since I’ve been left to rot in this cell.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s been ten hours. Get up.”

“Am I sprung, then?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It depends on if your explanation for yesterday’s antics pleases the Grandmaster.”

Impatience written on her face, she attempted to kick him again, but Loki held her leg fast in his grip. Flashing her a grin, he slid his hand up over the top of the boot and wrapped it around her calf instead, pressing the pads of his fingers against the lean muscles there. Her eyes widened as she jerked away, taking two steps backwards. It was gratifying that she wasn’t entirely unaffected by his touch, considering just the memory of hers could set him aflame.

Holding the grin, he lifted his hands to sue for peace before she hit him with something harder than the tip of her boot, and climbed to his feet. “Do I get a last meal, at least?”

“No,” she answered, taking his upper arm and manhandling him out of the cell, marching them both down the corridor. She obviously liked to be in charge. He didn’t really have an issue with that, in certain areas of his life. Areas that did not involve the throne of Asgard, of course. The bedroom, on the other hand… He liked a woman who knew what she wanted, and took it.

It was quite  a process to deal with, apologizing to the Grandmaster for attacking his men, and promising an untold favor (something he’d always tried to avoid) to the man in recompense. In return, the Valkyrie reluctantly freed him from his chains, although she refused a seat next to him on the long couch positioned to watch his brother’s upcoming arena match. He could feel her assessing gaze as he chatted with her employer and the other guests. It did not bother him, to have her attention. He meant to keep it.

A guard came in, bending low to murmur in the Grandmaster’s ear. The man’s face lit up and he stood, clapping his hands. The sound boomed throughout the enormous arena, amplified by magic, quieting the crowd.

“Hello and welcome, friends. Today we have quite a show, quite a show, one you’ve never seen the likes of. Gods and monsters! We have legends come to life in our house this evening,” he called out, his words echoing in the giant space, the silver thread woven through the fabric of his clothing sparkling under the bright lights as he flung his arms wide. Loki leaned forward, settling his elbows on his knees, concern once again nagging at him. Not that his brother couldn't take care of himself. But the "monsters" line was a bit of a worry, regardless.

“May I present to you, Thor, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder!”

The crowd surged to their feet screaming and pounding the floorboards, rattling the metal chain barrier wall that separated them from the arena, as Thor strut in. He looked like his former self, despite the lack of hair and empty hand that had held Mjölnir for as long as Loki could recall, lifting his arms to encourage the crowd, grinning, his chest puffed out with pride at his reception. It was one part bravado, two parts battle glee, Loki knew. His older brother had long ago found a way to channel his fear of death into a lust for fighting, making him more dangerous than ever on the field. Loki, on the other hand, had let his fear rule him for too many years. It hadn’t made him any less dangerous, but it ruined everything decent in his life. He was still learning how to control and hone the emotion, a slippery task, to his never ending irritation.

Thor shook his sword at the masses as they cheered. Loki sighed and propped his chin on one hand. Obviously they were going to be here a while.

“.......meet your incredible--”

The other combatant's door and part of the wall burst inward as something huge and green hurtled into the arena, its enraged roar shaking the entire building.

“--Hulk!”

Oh no. No no no. Loki’s stomach dropped out as he stared down at the monster glaring at his brother. Dr. Bruce Banner’s angry creation had nearly killed him the last time they’d met and he did not desire a rematch. Thor, on the other hand, seemed thrilled to see his teammate’s alter ego.

“YES!” he yelled, an excited grin on his face, stopping the Hulk, and everyone else, right in their tracks. The echoing room went silent. He swung around to stare up at Loki and the Grandmaster, gesturing towards the big green creature. “He’s a friend, from work! Loki, look who it is!”

The monster’s head whipped around, furious black eyes finding him immediately, a vicious smile appearing. Oh gods, he needed to leave. Now.

“I need to get off this planet.” Loki ignored the feminine snort from the far corner of the room and slowly backed away towards the door.

But then Thor said something that distracted the Hulk, who seemed violently opposed to whatever it was, and let him know it. Soon, the two were embroiled in a fight, tearing up the arena floor, the wild cheering from the crowd egging them on. He didn’t fear for his brother, knowing that Banner would keep his other half from killing Thor. He’d had no such compunction with Loki, of course, and most likely, would not still. It was a massive understatement to say  the Hulk did not much like him. Which was why he needed to leave before the creature bested his brother and decided to finish what he’d started in the Iron-Man’s ugly tower.

Turning on heel, he moved towards the exit, not looking back as the sounds of battle continued. As he left, the Valkyrie fell into step beside him, one hand resting on what seemed to be its habitable home on the pommel of her sword.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I _know_ I’m leaving this planet, and possibly the entire solar system,” Loki answered, heading for the guest suite the Grandmaster had afforded him, as visiting royalty. It seemed even cast off princes had their purpose in the underbelly of society, although he’d yet to discover why the Grandmaster had treated him with such generous courtesy. In his experience, everyone wanted something. He glanced at the woman keeping pace alongside him. Just what did _she_ want? It didn’t seem likely it was the same thing he did. It was a shame he’d have to leave before trying his hand at winning her over. Once upon a time, he’d been quite good with the ladies.

But he did not ask her outright what it was she desired, for it was surely the best way to guarantee her refusal to tell him. Instead he stayed silent, knowing, in time, she’d tip her hand.

“Truly, are you so much a coward that you’d run? From Dr. Banner?” she asked idly, her stride effortless next to his longer one. “He seems nice.”

“Oh yes, he’s a lovely fellow.” Loki rolled his eyes, halting as they reached his suite, and keyed in his code. “Sadly, we don’t get on well. There was a... falling out several years ago, if you will.”

The door slid open, and he headed straight for the bedroom where he’d left his travelling bag, and began to throw what few items he carried with him into it. The only thing he handled with care was a small collection of books. They had been Frigga’s, he’d managed to steal them away when he’d escaped Hela. Though not usually one for sappy sentiment, they were all he had left of his mother. His heart was not stone, after all. The Valkyrie leaned against the door frame of the bedroom and watched, saying nothing. He walked past her into the main room, bag slung over his shoulder, and still she said nothing. Stopping in the middle of the room, he narrowed his eyes at her, unsure if he liked the way she seemed to look right through him. And find him lacking.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Really.”

“No, it's definitely something, but I’m not interested in sharing at the moment.”

Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes yet again. Truly, she brought out the most conflicting emotions in him. “And will you inform me at a later date if you become so inclined to grace me with your thoughts?”

“Probably not.” She strode to the door leading to the corridor, gesturing for him to precede her. He did, shoulder blades itching as he gave her his back, trusting she wouldn’t thrust a blade in it as he walked by. She didn’t seem to like him very much, twice the pity. They headed towards the landing pads where he would commission a ship to take him off-world. It had almost been time to leave again anyway, he was only doing so a bit ahead of schedule. What he was hunting could not be found here. As he made to move towards the office that paired passengers with transports, the Valkyrie stayed him with a firm hand on his forearm.

“I’ll take you,” she said, her expression smooth and unreadable.

“I’m sorry?” Loki furrowed his brow. Take him where? The office was but a few feet away.

“Wherever it is you're going next,” she answered impatiently. He blinked at her, thrown off-guard. “I’ve got a ship. It’s as good as any of those.” She gestured towards the line of transports waiting to be cleared for liftoff. “Better, to be honest.”

“Why would you do this?” he asked. He’d have thought she would be glad to see the back of him, and it made him wary of her offer.

“Because I don’t trust you, I think you’re up to something, and if the rumors are true about your activities in the past few years, I’m sure as hell not letting you go off on your own to plot more nefarious deeds. I'll take you where you need to go until I'm satisfied you aren't going to bring destruction down on us all.”

“Nefarious.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’d be a fool to turn down my offer. I'll charge half what you'd find anywhere else, how about that?”

Loki rubbed a hand over his chin, considering it. It wouldn’t hurt to save some funds. They weren’t unlimited anymore, although he did have magic trickery if he became truly desperate. He tried not to use it on unwitting innocents anymore, however, no matter what the Valkyrie thought otherwise. It wouldn’t be _terrible_ , traveling alongside a beautiful woman who made his blood sing whenever she snarled at him. He knew she was a masterful warrior, always a boon. And she clearly was clever and quick, something he could use to his advantage, he was quite sure.

“I’ll take this deal, for I am no fool,” Loki said, inclining his head. “But I have one condition.”

“What is it?” A flash of consideration crossed her face. She was no fool, either.

“I want to know your given name. I refuse to call you Valkyrie for the entirety of our time together.”

She was struggling with his requirement, he could see that. It wasn’t taboo on Asgard, to allow others to call the Queen’s Guard by both their title and their birth names. So it must be that she just didn’t want _him_ to have it. How very interesting.

“Brunnhilde,” she said at last, her tone resigned.

“Brunnhilde.” He turned the name over in his mouth, testing it. “It suits you.”

She gave an irritable shrug. “Can we go now or do you have more demands to be met?”

“No,” he answered, a sly smile turning his lips upward. “No more demands to be met at this time.”

With a huff, Brunnhilde turned and strode down the landing pad, leaving Loki to trail behind her. But not before he saw the blush that had bloomed across her cheeks.

 


End file.
